Illusions
by Flickering Hope
Summary: Sometimes, I catch myself thinking that he might actually be capable of loving me– of loving a man. It's in these moments, as we move and breath as one, his hands gripping me as though they'll never let go, that I can delude myself with an illusion of happiness– But I know. I know that in the end, an illusion is just an illusion. And he'll never need me like I need him.


Um, hi. I'm a recent fan of Sex/Love Pistols, having started earlier this year. Well, to be honest, Shiro x Yonekuni is basically the only couple I really care about in the manga/anime. Norio x Kunimasa is great and all as well, as are the other couples, but this is the only couple that's really stuck with me and left a deep impression. So I'm really sad that there aren't a lot of stories for this fandom (though I have a feeling it has to do with the manga being hard to get into with all it's randomness). So I decided to try writing my own story which is just a bit bittersweet. Hope you like it ^_^

 **Posted:** 06/07/2015

* * *

 **~Illusions~**

 _Let's stop this… It was impossible for us after all… I'm sorry, but…_

 _You make me sick._

I gasp for breath, drowning in a sea of crumpled sheets, searching for a way out. A dream? A nightmare? Ah, that's right, they were memories of yesterday's events, when Yonekuni finally snapped. Of course, it was inevitable. Yonekuni was a man-hater, consequently, there was only so much he could tolerate a man by his side before he snapped. This is the reality. Or rather, the fleeting time I could stand by his side was the dream. I would have done well to remember that. But… being the person closest to him besides those women, being in a position where he would actually _look_ at me with those stormy grey eyes… it was intoxicating. So much so that I lost sight of reality, the reality that one day, Yonekuni would leave me behind and before I knew it, that day had already come. That isn't to say I didn't realise how he was going to leave me _at all_ , I wasn't so disillusioned as to not realise I was going to be thrown away eventually, it was just that somehow, I had lulled myself into thinking that I still had one more day, one more minute, one more second to spend by his side. But now, even the small dot where our paths overlapped has been broken, and I can't see a way to piece it back together again.

The sound of rain pelting against my window snaps me out of my pitiful reverie towards my unrequited love. I stare outside fondly, watching as droplets of water pelt down before making their way down the glass, leaving streaks in their wake, and finally falling to the ground. I love rainy days. Not just because I have a high body temperature, but because it is only on rainy days that he will come looking for me. Cold, shivering and completely drenched by my doorstep because he doesn't have the awareness to bring an umbrella. No, the only thing he'd be driven by is the primal instinct of his to keep warm, so he'd look for me. Even though I knew I was probably just a very good substitute for a heater, sometimes I would find myself imagining that he actually needed me- _wanted_ me. I cast a spell on myself, to create an illusion of happiness during the times I was embraced. That too, is probably over.

* * *

I hear knocking. I glance at the clock- it's 11:45 at night. The only person who would visit me at this time on a rainy night is… and before I know it, I'm opening my front door.

"Yonekuni," the name rolls of my tongue fondly as I allow my unrequited love into my house. He doesn't reply, of course, anyone who looked into his glassy eyes could discern that fact, but I pretend I don't notice as he makes his way into the genkan and takes of his dripping wet shoes. I make my way to the cupboard in the hall and take out a few towels, when I come back, he's already sitting on my bed.

 _Just as he has countless times before._

And as always, I make my way over to where he is, body hunched in an attempt to minimise surface area, and turn the heater on along the way. He makes no move to shift even when I am right by his side, but I start drying him off anyway. Humming soothingly as I run my hands through his fluffy blond hair, I can't help but smile. This is probably my favourite part of Yonekuni's night "visits", just staying by his side and keeping him warm. I know what is to come next though, because this isn't enough for Yonekuni- it never is. So when he pushes me down onto my bed, springs squeaking in protest at the sudden movement, all I do is smile warmly up at his expressionless face which I cup in one of my hands, tracing my fingers along his high cheek bones as I feel my warmth flow into him from the palm of my hand.

 _It's hot. So hot._

He thrusts into me repeatedly at a rough, animalistic pace. I gasp in pain as his grip on my hips tighten, and I know that they are going to be bruised tomorrow. I find myself wondering what it would feel like if he were to hold me gently, but cast away the thought almost as soon as it enters my mind. It's not as if that would ever happen anyway. After all, Yonekuni is simply here for my body heat, so it doesn't really matter how he gets it. Still, when we're joined like this, moving and breathing as one being, I sometimes find myself drawn into thinking that he might actually be capable of loving me, of loving a man. It's in these moments, as he desperately marks me all over, hands gripping me as though they'll never let go, that I can delude myself with an illusion of happiness. And I take care to avoid his eyes in these moments, because I know that if I were to look into those glassy, emotionless eyes now, I might just break beyond repair. Because I know. I know that in the end, an illusion is just that- and illusion. The truth is that he will never love me, and he doesn't want me, does _need_ me like I need him, and so desperately wished that he did as well. So when he collapses on top of me, panting from exertion in time with my own ragged breaths, I'm glad. Because when Yonekuni leans against me with his eyes closed, breathing in and out rhythmically as I whisper sweet nothings into his ear and run my fingers through his soft blond hair, it is probably as close to my illusion as I am ever going to get.

* * *

 _Hey, Yonekuni… This… might be… the end…_

I let my eyes linger on Yonekuni for a while longer, tracing my fingers lightly over his face as I try to sear everything that is Yonekuni into my mind forever before I have to let him go for what might be the last time. There's someone knocking at my door again, this time it's undoubtedly Kunimasa.

"Oh… He's here to pick you up"

Finally, I get up so that Yonekuni can be taken away by his brother- but something holds be back. I gasp.

"Huh?"

I turn around, and cloudy grey eyes stare back at me, confusion evident in them. Kunimasa lets himself in, already used to picking up his brother at my house. He pauses as he realises that his brother is actually conscious for once, catching my eye and seeing that I am equally confused, he turns back to his brother,

"I heard you passed out, so I came to pick you up."

I sigh in relief in my head, glad that Kunimasa came up with a believable lie, and send him a thankful glance.

"Th… this is my place," I stutter out, "we came here once when we were second years to plan for the school festival."

I see Yonekuni take in my room, but the next second, he has be pinned down to the bed.

"Wh… what?" My clothes are ripped of and I can only gaze up at Yonekuni in horror as he takes in my marked body- marks made by him. Then he goes for the pants.

"Let… let go!" I scream, but it's too late.

"It's… it's mine…" he trails off.

"Er… I seem to be a bother so…" Kunimasa moves to leave.

"STAY HERE!" Yonekuni screams, before lowering his voice once more, but the anger in his words are still as clear as day, "How many times? Is this the first time you've come here?" Kunimasa glances at me.

"You can't evade him anymore, Fujiwara." I flinch, "I've lost count of how many times it's been going on, ever since you were a second year." Yonekuni freezes, unmoving.

"A lie… isn't it…?" he grabs hold of me, "What's you intention…?! Why didn't you say anything?! You knew my insane acts!"

"I… asked… Kuni… masa… -kun… not to… tell you…" I break down, covering my face with my forearm, lest I meet his gaze, "Because I… love you."

"Hahaha… is this a **JOKE**?" his voice is cold, so very cold, " **LOVE**? What is that? Who? You… love me? We're both guys, you know? Then, what? 'cause you like me, you were willing to be raped, by a guy who's in a muddle?" He breaks of once more and looks at his markings on me, "Oh… it's not rape, because you enjoyed it, it's sex. Was it fun? Seeing me, who didn't know anything? Did it make you laugh?" he jeers, and I break down, hot tears streaming down my face onto the still warm covers where we had lain together.

"There's no way… I'd be… fucked by a man as a joke…! It's because ever since… junior high… I've loved you…!" I choke out.

I gaze into Yonekuni- no, Madarame's eyes.

That's right, this isn't Yonekuni. Yonekuni is like a helpless child, not taking an umbrella when it's raining, relying on others to keep him warm… He doesn't know how to express emotion, simply taking what he wants, when he wants. But at least Yonekuni needs me, even if only just a little. These eyes aren't glassy though, they're brimming with rage, with emotion, they belong to Madarame. Madarame who doesn't need someone like me, Madarame who gets sickened by the thought of even touching a man, let alone embracing them. Madarame… who I've always loved… and who will never love me.

Ah, reality really is so much crueller than the illusion.


End file.
